Ember
by SuperNeos2
Summary: After the events of Still, Daryl and Beth have a better understanding of one another. On night watch, Daryl can't help but reflect on what that means exactly.


Disclaimer: Don't own Walking Dead

AN: **This is just an idea that came to me as I was rewatching Season 4. The reason why I wrote this is because I need the practice of writing the characters of this show due to a future story I'm gonna write on here.**

**I hope to hear some feedback since Daryl is gonna be a big player in the story and I wanna know how I am in writing him.**

**Anyway, this is the same night at the end of the episode 'Still'.**

**Enjoy**

Ember-

He grunted at the pain in his head. His back was arched backward as he took a post by a tree. His fist was tightened around his crossbow, eyes peering forward for any kind of movement or subtilty that something was there in the bushes. To his relief, nothing aside from the sound of the cold winds made a peep. All was quiet.

Daryl still grunted at the pain in his head though. Damn moonshine. He should've just stayed sober tonight, or at least kept that peach schnapps. It may have tasted like shit, but at least his head wouldn't be hurting this much.

A part of him wanted to take a page outta Beth's book. Lay down on the uncomfortable ground and just sleep off this shitty feeling. He spared a glance backwards to check on her. Aside from her shivering, she seemed alright. Their fire wasn't exactly big enough to really warm them up, Daryl not wanting to draw any attention to them from the smokes or flames, but it was something.

Should've burnt that shack down in the morning. At least then there would be some safety guarding them and not just a long ugly line of trees that were covered in either blood or piss.

He could hear Merle now; mocking him about bitching like a little girl who didn't get what colored car she wanted for her birthday.

He wiped his nose as he continued to stare blankly ahead into the horizon, only half paying attention to the woods around him. The prison; Hershel; the Governor; all of it replayed itself in his fucked up head now that he wasn't distracted. Accepting the thoughts with no fight, mostly in part due to his bad headache, he surprisingly found himself not as upset or angry with himself as he was earlier this morning. Sure, he would always in part question whether or not he could've done more to maybe stop the destruction of the prison, but he didn't feel like punishing himself for it anymore.

The sound of leaves shaking had Daryl on guard, crossbow up and ready to fire. Nothing was coming his way. Quickly turning around, he was met with nothing. He and Beth were still alone.

Looking down to the girl in question, he saw her shaking as much as the leaves in the trees above him. She was as close to the fire as she could get without burning herself, though Daryl doubt that you could get burned from the pathetic size of the flame he lit. Her arms were crossed over her chest, trails and trails of goosebumps on her somehow flawless skin. Daryl remembered his skin when he was her age. Horrible. Merle called him 'Reddy Woodpecker' for months until Daryl had gotten into a fight that ended with him getting kneed in the groin... Hard. It was 'Blue Balls' from that day onward.

His aggression now resided, he watched as Beth tried to lower the cold. He almost cracked a smirk that she was doing all this in her sleep. That need to smirk faded when he recalled his little, actually really big, aggressive behavior when they were playing that drinking game. That stupid goddamn game.

He never told anyone those things before. He had almost told Carol once or twice, but always panicked and pussied out. He was keen with keeping it all buried in and letting whatever secrets and facts about himself die with him.

But Beth knew now and while he felt like slamming his face on the bark of the tree for saying those words, he was a lot more relieved that he had said something. The circumstances were definitely shitty, but every circumstance was shitty now. That was probably the easiest way to let it all out, ironically.

He never expected her to be the one he spilled secrets to. Hell, even that story with Merle and the tweaker kid was something that Daryl hadn't even thought of in years. He still couldn't figure out why he recalled it. At first he thought it was because he missed Merle. That story, although it had a really tense and stupid beginning and middle, the ending was something Daryl could crack a smile to privately if he was in a good mood. But still, that didn't really help him to figure out why he told it to Beth. Regardless of why he told it to her, he had. And that meant something, however little or big it may be. He wished he knew. It could maybe help lower this headache of his.

He didn't know how long he was just looking at Beth, seeing her toss and turn, shivering, and her teeth chattering. She was all that he had left from the prison. He still believed that the odds of finding anyone, if they were even alive, was impossible. Beth was the last rope that connected him to the group; a group that Daryl called family. Beth was family.

That's why he told her, he realized. Families don't hold back from one another. They embraced and stuck together through everything. They shared doubts and fears and worked to rid them, no matter how difficult the journey.

That's why he needed to remain strong now and not be a walking shell of a man. She was all the family he had left, and Daryl would die before her to make sure she stayed breathing.

Be the last man standing, his ass.

Her shivering was getting to be much. Sighing, he set his crossbow down as he shrugged off the angel vest he had; leaving him with a black wife beater. Holding it in both hands, he straightened it before covering Beth with it. It wouldn't be much, but it would lower her shivering. Last thing both of them needed was her with a cold or ammonia.

He waited a little bit, seeing her calm the shivering and going back to what can be called a peaceful sleep. He would take the vest back before she woke up, knowing his scars were clear on his back. Despite her being family, that was something they were gonna have to wait to deal with, if ever. He took his crossbow back, returning to his night watch for walkers that weren't there; his head hurting just a little bit less.

Behind the ember of the flames, Beth's lips were upturned into a small smile.

End of Ember

Yeah, it's short, but I wanted to get something out there. This was just a random idea I had that I wanted to write. Hope I kept Daryl in character. He's a bitch to write sometimes, but he is a whole lot of fun.

I'll have another Oneshot up tomorrow to further continue my practice. It'll either be another Daryl/Beth or a Daryl/Carol one.

Hope you review if you liked it, or didn't, and have a nice day.


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